


Sad FM

by JustSuperMione



Series: R/Hr canon missing moments [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 05:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSuperMione/pseuds/JustSuperMione
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are you feeling unloved, uninspired and bored? The solution is here: the virtually undetectable, realistic daydream charm that lasts for thirty minutes. Set after the Christmas Interrupted series and Ron's confession... Hermione needs some Yuletide cheering. Plays with what coulda, woulda, shoulda happened with her Ronnie without the 'Hermione snogged Krum' bellowing... HBP</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sad FM

**Author's Note:**

> Hermione uses the patented Daydream Charm after her fight with Ron when she’s at home for Christmas. Plays with what coulda, woulda, shoulda happened with her Ronnie without the ‘Hermione snogged Krum’ bellowing... Missing R/Hr moment in HBP
> 
> This story is set after the Christmas Interrupted series. All my stories interrelate HOWEVER they can be read separately. 
> 
> Sorry for the spelling and grammar; I’m dyslexic. JKR owns Potter.

Seventeen year old Hermione Granger felt pathetic looking out her window to another wet and windy Christmas night. Earlier, she’d overhead her parents talking; after that, it had been easy to fake a headache and flee to bed early. It wasn’t her head that was aching – but her heart. It might be a cliché, but it was true. The heartache, that time had miraculously dulled, now pained her afresh.

Christmas had been quiet, unnaturally quiet. Her parents had said that everyone they usually invited had other commitments. Confusingly, her relatives _usually_ wanted to see her when she returned from ‘boarding school’. This Christmas seemed less organised, ‘thrown together’, entirely last minute, and she hadn’t known why until an hour ago.

Alone in a darken room she could hear her parents preparing for bed. To drown them out she’d absentmindedly switched on the radio desperately trying to forget.

Her parents had been washing up, believing her occupied grandmother on the phone. However, her grandmother had finished the call abruptly because she realised that her favourite soaps Christmas special was about to start.

Hermione had been about to help her parents, when she heard them talking.

“…Molly doesn’t know what happened between them either?” her father had said. “Because last time I spoke to Arthur…”

Hermione’s heart seemed to stop.

“Darling,” her mother had interrupted with a firm but tired voice. “I told you before. She knows as much as we do. Last time we had coffee, we’d just found out that they were going to go to that party – and then they weren’t…” her mother had sighed. “It’s a shame because I was looking forward to my first Weasley Christmas.”

Suddenly, Hermione felt lonelier. She didn’t know if it was this new depressing information, the soggy Christmas or the cheerless music. Sad FM... She couldn’t believe she was listening to Sad FM. Not only that but she was wallowing whilst listening to its melancholy soundscape.

1996: a sad year for muggle music. All the songs reminded her of the shattered pieces that were once her whole heart. More evidence, if it was needed, that Dementors were loose. Songwriters were just being plagued she supposed. Which was all very well and good for the miserable but she didn’t want to be.

She wanted desperately to forget about _them_. Forget _him_ with _her_. Forget what was and what could have been.

_Who was she now?_ She questioned miserably. Before Hogwarts she’d gone to a private girl’s school where the Upper School girls would spend an inordinate amount of time obsessing over their latest beau. When their romances were going well, they’d preen and gossip, while being surrounded by idolising Lower School girls. Their relationship’s never lasted long. Then, Hermione always had a hard time concealing her laugher: crying over a boy, _pur-lease_! In fact, she’d told her mother, in no uncertain terms, _she’d_ never do that. No boy was worth crying over. But here she was crying alone in her room: trapped by _them_.

Hermione went over to the bed and flopped down.

Her body was rebelling because tonight was _their_ night. They should be together now. It was just past midnight and this time last year; to the minuet in fact, she’d been kissing Ronald Weasley in Grimmauld Places library. Her fingers had run through his auburn locks, inhaling his intoxicatingly masculine scent. His hand had gently caressed her cheek and she’d been on fire; feeling more like a woman than a girl. They’d kissed so much that Sirius had used a spell to remove their love bits; for the _second_ time that holiday! She sighed wistfully; their private moments had always been joyful release.

_So unlike the snogging spectacle he’s doing with the blond_ Hermione thought bitterly.

Her body now actually ached with missing him: _Her Ronnie_.

She wanted to hold him, kiss him and hear him use _that_ nickname.

Hermione punched her pillow out of frustration. He was Lavender’s now; she’d given him an unsightly gold sweetheart necklace for Christmas. Audaciously declaring as she wrapped it:

_‘Oh I know Won-Won’ll love this; we’re so in tune. We were meant to be. Weasley men are very good at finding their soul mates and after that are so loyal. That’s what my mother says anyway. Loads of them end up with their first girlfriend.’_ The cow had cooed openly just before they’d left school.

Ha! That dithering bint had no idea she was only Ron’s first _public_ girlfriend. Ron and she had been together(ish) for ages. That was the problem. Their relationship had never gotten to the public-declaration/tell-Harry stage. From the outside, it might seem like friends with benefits arrangement but it wasn’t. Their relationship was just indefinable; but the one word her heart used was, love.

Amortentia, whose fragrance varies from person to person, depending upon what each individual, finds appealing, had confirmed it. For her it had been _him_. It had always been him and she didn’t know why she’d doubted it.

Empowered by this, and a childish jealously test involving Harry, Hermione Granger had taken that next step; asked him to Slughorn’s party in front of Harry and then... Then, after a promising start, his pigheadedness had gotten in the way. He’d gotten angry said he was a _‘free agent’_ and it made her feel dreadful. _Is that how he’d felt all this time?_ Only now he wasn’t free, he’d taken up with the blond because he was jealous...

After Slughorn’s party was a blur. Ron saved her from McLaggen with the vomiting slug hex. Then, there was only his confession. Like a reveal spell, a possessive Ron had admitted the reason behind his bad mood and behaviour transplant. The day after the ball, Hermione had been fixing Ginny’s feet and she’d been forced to confess that she had in fact been kissed after the Yule Ball. Ginny had assumed Victor had kissed her. Ron was jealous: which was ridiculous. Victor had been a gentleman and kissed her hand. It was Ron that had been sweet and recreated a Yule Ball of their own and then snogged her senseless.

He was jealous of himself!

It was just another example of them being so close and yet...

Tap! Tap! Tap!

Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the window. There was Pig; the small excitable grey owl. He’d flown through the storm, bringing yet another letter from her former friend and love.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I’m sorry I was an idiot. I should have done so many things differently. I can’t believe I threw away our relationship over that misunderstanding. I wish I had a time turner to tell myself how silly I was._

_Please floo to the Burrow and let’s talk about this. Or I’ll floo to you. I miss you. Christmas just isn’t as happy without you here._

_Can we at least be friends again? I made a mistake. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. Please just tell me what I need to do to make this right._

_Your_

_Ronnie_

_X_

Hermione screwed up the letter. _Ronnie! Her Ronnie! How dare he?_

She opened a draw that held the rest of his letters and slammed it shut. She was glad she’d used a silencing charm on it because her Ron letter draw looked in need of some repair. When she’d arrived home she’d considered getting rid of the drawer full of his letters and pictures. The drawer, that now wouldn’t close properly thanks to all his failed attempts at an apology. Buried within was also a small unopened gift box from Ron she’d refused to open.

Hermione looked around wanting something to do; anything but this adolescent introspection. Then, she saw it; a readymade escape. Among the presents delivered from the Burrow that morning was a patterned daydream. Fred and George had sent it to her, implying that if she didn’t use it they’d feel slighted.  All day she’d successfully resisted it. Hiding it under the book sent by Harry, the sweater sent by her godmother and the balls of blue wool from Mrs Weasley.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could still see the colourful box. The pirate looked every bit the dashing rouge; the swooning girl looked perky and doe eyed. Hermione stormed over to the box, turning the radio off as she went. The box read:

_Do you find the real world a little too hard? Are you feeling unloved, uninspired and underactive where you are? Want to experience an extra thrill? The solution is here: the virtually undetectable, realistic daydream charm that lasts for thirty minutes._

_Warnings: side effects may include drooling and/or dazed expression.  Not for under the age of sixteen’s._

Hermione studied the enchantment and the wand movement carefully. When she was ready she lay on her bed, closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The incarnation and wand movement were easy for her. However, after performing them she didn’t feel any different. Frustrated; she opened her eyes only to see a great mist, like a lazy cloud of magic had enveloped her room.

* * *

 

“Hello Hermione,” said a familiar jovial voice. She could see his satisfied smile before turning. It was big and warm and mischievous. Everything he’d always been.

“Fred,” Hermione breathed relieved, and yet, she was disappointed that it wasn’t that _other_ redhead. She couldn’t help but grin back at him. Suddenly, she noticed that they were on the Yule Ball dance floor _again_. His eyes sparkled with mischief; his garish purple dragon suit smelt like gunpowder. Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Don’t you be rolling your eyes at me, _Mione,_ ” he exclaimed wickedly. That sobered her up, how did he know _that_ nickname? He opened his arms and she collapsed into them; so warm, safe and somehow familiar. “Our daydream charms don’t usually start like _this_.” As he said _this_ they started to waltz. “This is especially for _you_ ; it’s a longer charm, with no pirates.” She noticed her clothes had changed from pyjamas to her periwinkle dress robes.

Her gaze met his. He held her closely, possessively, only letting her go to spin and make her giggle. He looked at her with those adoring blue eyes sparkling with an unseen delight: she felt strangely beautiful. She wanted to melt into those eyes; swim in the pools of light shining brightly. They’d been friends for so long, got on so well away from everyone. For a moment, it was nice. It was always easy with Fred but she didn’t want what was easy.

Fred could never be Ron. Gunpowder could never smell like Ron’s hair. Dancing with him again made her realise afresh that it was always Ron she’d yearn for.

“Excuse me,” a familiar firm voice interrupted. Hermione shivered. Hermione slowly turned her head. There stood Ronald Weasley, wearing dress robes that took her breath away. “Hi Mione,” he smiled charmingly, eyes smouldering. “I don’t mean to be rude but, bugger off Fred.” Hermione glared at Ron. _How dare he?_

“I don’t want him to go, you fool!” She shirked furiously turning away from him. “I want to forget about _you_ and dancing with Fred is a nice way to start. So _you_ can, to borrow a phrase, ‘bugger off’!”

Fred however, stepped back wearing a haughtily smile before fading away.

“See,” Ron said smugly. “You want _me_.”

“Since I was eleven years old and saw you at Diagon Alley,” she heard herself sigh. Daydream Ron didn’t seem to hear her so continued:

“You’ve always wanted me to stand up to _him._ To take you in my arms,” he said boldly taking her right hand in his left and placing his right on her waist. “And to do this…” _This_ was again dancing, however, unlike after the Yule Ball, their dancing was all graceful. After a few minutes, she wondered why he hadn’t tried to kiss her. Daydream Ron, as if reading her mind, answered.

“Oh, you expected me to kiss you?” he said with a lopsided smile. “Lavender’s Ron kisses her and moves with the grace and enthusiasm of the giant squid on heat. But I’m _your_ Ronnie. The same Ron kisses you idolatrously: sinning with each worshipful gift.” And with that he tenderly pushed the hair back behind her ear: carefully tracing the softness of her cheek. He edged closer and with an aching slowness and began to kiss her; passionately, just the way she’d been longing for. As good as she remembered. She closed her eyes and let herself feel only this.

* * *

 

When she opened her eyes again they were in Hogwarts library.

“I have to go!” A Quidditch clad Ron complained slowly getting up from the table. This was the last time he’d been civil to her – the day they’d been so close.

“No stay...” Hermione lightly whined grabbing his hand. “You’re _really good_! The best Quidditch keeper this school has ever seen...” she said innocently, trying her best to be doe eyed. “Best player even; better than Harry or your brothers.” She beamed as the blush spread to his ears. “Stay with _me_! Study, play footsy, even play eye spy if you like... ”

Ron smiled down at her truly torn between his nearly girlfriend and his team mates.

_This isn’t a daydream it’s a glorified pensive_ _with some details wrong_ Hermione thought. _Like she was wearing her uniform without the battered Weasley jumper she favoured for cold nights in the library._

_I know what happens next_ , she thought.

“Mione!” he said earnestly, in a low dangerous tone. “I’d much prefer staying here with you but... I gotta go help the others... It’s my duty as...”

“Alright! Alright!” she muttered before he got to the end of his sentence. Just like the first time, she pouted and folding her arms in a sulk. Again, he turned to go and she said: “Just before you go one tiny little thing.” She beckoned him closer with her finger and when he was near enough; she kissed his lips chastely. It was slow, soft and gave both of them shivers.

“What was that for?” he asked with a dazed smile.

“For luck,” she sighed and with that she returned to her homework and he left their corner of the library.

To her surprise, Ron popped his head back around the corner.

“If you like, I’ll come by and carry your books back to the tower after Quidditch practice,” he said shyly; his ears going red. “I’ll be a bit smelly but... it’s what a _boyfriend_ should do.”

“Boyfriend?” she asked meekly. He nodded. “Then, I’ll be waiting like a good _girlfriend_ should,” she replied in a very dreamily and un-Hermione-ish way. He smiled brightly, she blew him a kiss and shooed him away. She was amused to notice that he strutted out.

* * *

 

The daydream slowly changed. Ron returned as the library was closing. She was waiting. They looked shyly at each other. Being friends for six years didn’t prepare them for this. This was their first meeting as girlfriend and boyfriend. They felt bashful, like they were two strangers.

“Hi,” she smiled stepping forward giving him a quick kiss on the mouth. As soon as their lips met, even though it was for a moment – everything became clear. It was like an awaking; they were still Hermione and Ron, just with a greater ability to show physical affection. She kissed him again.

“Hi,” he said against her mouth. His hand found the small of her back. She was happy. This greeting was definitely something they could get used to. He shouldered her bag, had his broom in one hand and grabbed her hand with his other. Madam Pince saw this and was visibly pleased.

“So where’s our shadow?” she asked as they entered the corridor and were definitely by themselves.

“Harry walked back with Ginny and Dean,” Ron said pointedly. “You know... I reckon he doesn’t like them together...”

“What did they say about you meeting me?” she innocently enquired.

“Nothing,” he said squeezing her hand. He lifted her hand and kissed it.

“Should we tell him?” Hermione asked holding her breath.

“Let’s wait until after _I_ singlehandedly win the Saturday’s Quidditch match...” he answered assertively. Hermione liked it when he was confident and like nothing was impossible. She knew that because that’s how exhilarated she felt.

The corridor was deserted, so in agreement, they kissed. She was starting to enjoy herself, when his warmth left her and the daydream changed.

* * *

 

Hermione opened her eyes and noticed she was entering the common room. Ron was standing on a small side table. There were a gaggle of fans around him; _her boyfriend_ looked _so_ good standing there. She sighed with a guilty smile. Her smiled turned quickly transfigured, as she noticed Lavender approaching him, with lustful intent.

Ron didn’t notice, he was too busy scanning the crowd for a face. When he saw her, he beamed lopsidedly, making her heart flutter. He was about to get down, and run to her, when Lavender flung herself at him. As Lavender moved to kiss him; he expertly dodged it.

“Lavender?” Ron questioned highly embarrassed for the young witch. “You’re a nice girl and everything, but I already have a girlfriend!”

Ron Weasley using the word girlfriend stopped the entire party. Every mouth gapped open. Hermione moved towards them, upset but determined. She felt the fury afresh that had plagued her since the real victory party. That bint was coming on to her _boyfriend_. _Her Ronnie!_ A voice boomed out of nowhere.

“Lavender, get off _my_ boyfriend,” Hermione was surprised that it was her speaking those words. A ripple of excitement went around the room, faster than a rumour. She marched up to the girl that she shared a bedroom with and said with complete confidence. “Please move away from _my_ boyfriend or I swear to Merlin I’ll...”

“You’re not...”

“Oh, I assure you we are, Lavender,” she said standing in front of Ron. _Her Ron!_ “He’s my best friend and he chose me long ago. What made you think you could compete with that?” It was something she always wanted to say to Lavender.

Lavender made a strange choking noise of blatant disbelief. Ron wrapped Hermione in his arms. His muscles made her feel save. He smelt intoxicatingly masculine. Goodness, she loved that he was the best Quidditch keeper the school had ever seen. She looked at him adoringly and they shared a quick peck on the lips; grinning ear to ear. This felt good: _right_. The room irrupted into applause, whooping and woof-whistles; the loudest of which came from their best friend Harry Potter.

Overjoyed: he walked towards them with a spring in his step. Smiling; he hugged them both together. For a little while, he seemed unable to form actual words. The party lost interest and began again. The portraits and ghosts took it upon themselves to spread the joyous news. Lavender shrunk back into the crowd, straight into the arms of Seamus.

“Now Ron...” Harry said in a serious voice. “It’s my duty because Hermione is like my sister, to say... err...”

“Treat her well or I’ll be sorry?” Ron added amused. Harry nodded.

“I don’t think he needs any threats from you Harry...” Hermione joked. “He is _my_ boyfriend after all and I have been meaning to try this charm with attacking canaries.”

They all laughed, and she could tell that the daydream was about to change. She wanted to keep this memory safe.

* * *

 

The daydream transitioned to sometime later that week; Hermione was the last leave Arithmancy class. She recognised this as the day she’d found Lavender and Ron all over each other in an alcove. Now however, Ron was waiting. He beamed at her as she walked towards him slightly dazed.

“Malady,” Ron said bowing and kissing her hand. “I’ve come to carry your bag!” Hermione sighed dreamily and when he brought his lips close enough, she kissed them. The corridor was deserted so it was more than a peck; but it was still a public corridor, in daylight, so it was less than a full on snog.

“It’s very nice of you...” Hermione said regaining her composure.

“Not at all,” Ron replied honestly. “Besides, I was just checking on Pig in the Owlery.”

“Ron, you never check on Pig _and_ the Owlery is the other side of the castle,” Hermione smiled as she grabbed his hand and they headed off towards the common room.

“Okay,” he said with mock embarrassment. “I wanted some harmless alone time with my _girlfriend,_ I love that word by the way, un-witnessed, by the _entire_ school. Nothing funny; just aimless conversation that isn’t analyzed by gossips.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Hermione agreed blissfully. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“Actually, I just wanted to ask you one thing,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Can you explain what Arithmancy is?” Hermione was taken aback; he’d never shown interest in her subjects before. True, he’d been the only one to notice that she was two places at once during third year but still... She wondered if the real Ron would be this interested. It warmed her heart to think that he probably would.

“It’s the magical discipline that included predicting the future with numbers and numerology. Those who study Arithmancy are called Arithmancers,” Hermione explained gleefully. “Bridget Wenlock, first discovered the magical [properties](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Arithmancy) of the number seven in the 13th century...”

“And tell me Hermione,” Ron interjected with a wicked tone of voice. “How is what old Vector teaches you different from what odd Trelawney's peddles?” Her hand left his and went to her hip angrily. All she saw was red; and it wasn’t his endearing hair.

“Ronald!” she snapped. “They’re two completely different things. _Professor_ Trelawney desperately interprets signs of her own creation; seeing the grim in the clouds, death in tealeaves and credits ‘an inner eye’ to decode dreams as windows into the future instead of using them as windows into a person’s own desires.” She was gazing at him intently. He looked back egging her on.

“Arithmancy uses numbers that appear in people’s lives. Numbers that are logically come by _then_ used to discern reoccurring patterns.” Hermione said as her hair began to get wilder, Ron didn’t respond he just examined her in disbelief. “I mean, you’ve seen my homework. _Professor_ Vector sets homework assignments, which included writing essays, requiring consultation and composition of complex number charts. _Professor_ Trelawney sets dream diaries that are more creative writing assignments,” Hermione explained desperately. “Do you see the difference Ronald?”

“Beautiful...” Ron sighed satisfied. “I had this whole list of reasons why you’re wrong but I can’t remember it.”

“A list?” Hermione asked stunned, her hands slipping down from her hips. “As in... you researched it?”

“Hermione,” Ron said matter-of-factly. “I have two brothers, Bill and Percy, both _mad_ on Arithmancy. I know what it is – I just wanted to see you angry.” Hermione gapped at him. So he explained. “Hermione your gorgeous _all_ the time but when you’re angry at me.” He tried to find the words. “You’re really passionate and your hair gets wilder, and your eyes look so beautiful and you’re just...” he sighed. “...dead sexy!”

“Sexy!” she squeaked. Embarrassed. She walked away a little, cleared her throat and added haughtily. “Do you do that often, Weasley?”

“All the time _Mione_...” he admitted. “All the time!” Then, Hermione did something that surprised even her. She ran up to him and snogged him. Properly snogged him. They bashed into a suit of armour, making it clag before moving towards a nearby alcove.

“Me-too-everyday-for-years,” she muttered against his lips. “Your-gorgeous-and-sexy-and-amazing-when-your-angry!” she confessed. They continued to talk and snog.

“Only-time-I-could-get-your-undivided-attention,” he agreed running his fingers through her hair. Hers raked his back and she didn’t care. The frenzied kissing continued until Mrs Norris meowed interrupted them. They ran off, giggling. The only word she could use to describe what she felt was: joy. When their destination was within sight Ron broke the silence by announcing.

“Just had a letter from mum; she’s _really_ happy about our news...” he said clearly self-conscious. “As are _your_ parents and she wants us to know that you and your family are coming for Christmas at the Burrow.”

“Our parents correspond?” Hermione marvelled.

“Apparently,” Ron said trying to be light heartedly. “Ginny owled mum on Saturday afternoon, by Sunday our parents were having brunch. Whatever that is! And now we’ll have a proper family Christmas!” He made sure the coast was clear before bending down to kissed her tenderly. It felt so right and so nice, like they’d always done this.

She could feel the Fat Lady’s piercing eyes so muttered the password _‘treacle tart’_ pointedly. The door opened.

“Okay! Also brunch is when you combine a late breakfast with an early lunch,” Hermione said for clarification. Ron looked at her bemused.

“So instead of having two meals, you have one?” he asked slowly as he followed her through the portrait hole. “That’s mental: surely it’s better to have two meals?” he asked as he stood up. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, indicating that it was a question to be answered. Hermione smiled; other than her and Harry, meals times were very important to her Ronnie. They spotted their best-friend and made their way over.

He seemed to be trying to study but was spending more time staring at Ginny and Dean, who were working in the opposite corner.

“Well, Brunch is a muggle idea: very popular in the suburbs,” Hermione answered vaguely. Ron was about to respond with another question about what the suburbs were when Harry interrupted.

“Now there’s a sight, my favourite Prefects squabbling whilst holding hands!” He exclaimed amused beyond belief. Ron let go of Hermione’s hand and flopped onto the sofa. A bereft Hermione sat next to him; he put his arm around her.

“Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!” Harry moaned burying his head in his homework.

“Harry we’re not doing anything!” Ron said innocently. “We’re just sitting.”

“Yeah, Harry and we could be _a lot_ worst,” Hermione said seriously. “We could be in _that_ chair,” she said pointing to the one Lavender and Won Won were fond of. “...writhing around like the giant squid with ants in his pants!”

They all laughed and Hermione felt the daydream change. She closed her eyes and let it happen.

* * *

 

Now she was looking at her reflection. Her make-up was very simple, her hair was wavy but not fizzy and judging by her red floaty dress; it was the night of Slughorn’s Christmas party. As she was inspecting herself the door behind her opened.

“Message from your _boyfriend,”_ Ginny smiled. “In the most loving way imaginable – I’m supposed to express to you that it’s impossible to improve on perfection and he misses you.” The words left her in such a dramatic fashion that Hermione couldn’t keep a straight face. Ginny smiled too. “Alright, he didn’t really say that exactly but he meant it... Oh you do look gorgeous. Have you charmed your make-up?”

“Why would I charm my make-up?” Hermione enquired spinning around to look at her friend.

“It’s a traditional Christmas party,” Ginny hinted smugly. “It has secluded corners with mistletoe!” This was accompanied by an eyebrow wiggle.

Hermione blushed as Ginny applied the anti-smug make-up charm. Later, they descended the stairs and she caught her first glimpse of Ron. Her boyfriend wearing a new set of elegant dress robes. Her heart fluttered, they were dark navy and unlike the maroon ones, there were no frills or lace.

Upon seeing Hermione, his face broke out into a wide-smile.

“Wow,” he said breathlessly. “You _look_ great!”

“So do you!” she beamed taking his arm. They went through the corridors in relative silence. It was the comfortable kind. As they got closer to the music and lights of the party Hermione redirected them. This was around the place they’d had their fight before the end of term.

Hermione led him over towards the stairs where he’d hid to curse McLaggen. She stood on the second step and snogged him. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoyed his embrace. Wordlessly, thanking him for saving her from the giant squid replacement; for cursing him with the slugs that first time and being hers now.

“What was that for?” he asked happily stroking her cheek.

“Because you looked too delicious to resist and we’ll have to be so respectable at the party.” She said with a pout before kissing him again. After another satisfied sigh, they readjusted themselves and continued onwards. Ron was highly entertained by the whole situation: Hermione didn’t care.

As they entered, they were met by Professor Slughorn.

“Arr Miss Granger. How nice to see you?” he welcomed them warmly. The old potioneer’s attention shifted towards Ron. He looked at him like he was examining a bubbling cauldron.

“It’s nice to be here, Professor...” Hermione answered pointedly, squeezing Ron’s hand. “You remember my _boyfriend_...” she added pointedly. For a moment, the Professor didn’t look pleased but that look quickly faded away.

“Of course, I remember Mr _Weasley_...” he schmoozed, purposely getting Ron’s surname right. “You’re the new star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team...” Ron’s ears blushed red: taken aback. “That was a _spectacular_ performance against Slytherin. I expect you’re very proud of him.”

“Yes sir, very proud!” she confirmed shamelessly, squeezing his hand again. Slughorn was, however, losing interest in them and was scanning the room. Hermione remembered him doing this the first time. “Well we better mingle, honey!”

“Didn’t Harry come with you?” Slughorn said almost desperately. “He is coming, isn’t he?”

“Oh he should be here soon,” Ron confirmed encouragingly. “He’s just meeting his date.” It seemed that Ron’s opinion of Slughorn had increased as soon as he’d recognised his existence for his own merit and not as the no-named sidekick to his two favourite pupils.

“Jolly good, now you should go and speak to...” Slughorn’s voice faded away.

* * *

 

The scene changed, and as it transitioned, the voice of Fred Weasley boomed:

“Mione: this is the last part of the daydream.”

As the mist cleared, she noticed she was sitting on the Burrow’s living room floor surrounded by Weasley’s, Harry and her parents. Her boyfriend sat next to her, legs touching, each wearing grins that extended to their eyes. Across from them, their fathers and mothers looked like they were enjoying getting to know each other better.

It was a very crowded, wonderful Christmas; with music, laughter and delicious cooking smells permeating the air. The Christmas tree was surrounded by presents that Fred and George were handed out. It was a very homemade Christmas with ornaments that seemed to have been well loved by generations. The oddest of which was the fairy on top of the Christmas tree; which looked like an angry cross dressing gnome. Mixed among these magical decorations were very muggle ones.

“Come on Hermione...” cajoled George. “What did Ronniekin’s get you?”

“This isn’t from Ron...” Hermione realised with a smile. Somehow, she knew Ron’s present was a small watch with symbols around the edge and moving stars instead of hands. It hung around her neck on a chain: resting safety around her heart. It was a thoughtful gift because wrist watches annoyed her when she was writing quickly. The present in her hand was soft and squishy; when she felt it her breath caught.  

“A long overdue present I think,” Ron whispered in her ear. Her shaking hands opened the wrapping. This was a moment to savour. The delight radiated from her as she saw the azure wool. The material was addictively soft. It was, by far, the most beautiful Weasley jumper Ron’s mother had ever made. Gasps issued from certain family members. Hermione slipped it on over her pyjamas and felt she was in heaven. She felt warm, safe and loved like no magic she’d ever read about.

“Welcome to the family!” Ron whispered in her ear. Hermione turned her head he dropped a tender kiss on her lips. It was a slow kiss that made her toes curl. “Love you,” he added completely satisfied. It was the first time the confession had left his lips.

“I love you too,” she muttered and he kissed her again. This time, however, the family noticed.

“Yuck!” they chorused in a variety of ways. There were cushions, teddies and even sweets thrown.

“Oi!” Ron explained shooting mock murderous looks around. Everyone in the family laughed; it was like a fairytale Christmas.

The daydream was fading suddenly Mrs Weasley took her aside and whispered:

“The wool is from a little shop I know and the blue...”

“...is the colour of Ron’s eyes!” Hermione finished. Mrs Weasley nodded, Hermione released that it was actually the colour of all the boys’ eyes and of the wool Mrs Weasley had sent. “Thank you, but why haven’t you made me one of these before?” she asked touching the jumper that she hadn’t taken off yet. Mrs Weasley sighed.

“I wanted to, I actually bought this wool _three_ years ago,” she sat the young girl down as she explained her reason. “But if I knitted you this sweater it would be like I was giving into the reality that I was giving my little boy to you.” Hermione couldn’t believe it.

“Don’t you like me?” Hermione said upset.

“Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said taking her in her arms for a brief hug. “I love you but I didn’t want to be replaced in his heart. I tried to deny what I saw. Then, there were things I couldn’t escape from; like how passionate he was about you staying with us after Cedric’s death. Last Christmas, when he needed you, you ran to him rather than spend Christmas with your parents.” Mrs Weasley looked Hermione in the eye and said earnestly. “... _that_ made the difference. But even before that: you remember when I saw the Boggart in Grimmauld Place?” Hermione nodded; nothing could erase the sight of that mother distraught. “I’ve never told anyone this but the first person it changed into was _you_. Then, Harry. Then, Ron and the rest of our family... all dead...”

“I know that if you die, then so will Harry and so would Ron,” she said on the verge of tears. She gave a large sniff and continued. “This summer before you left; I knew that it was the right time. Ron was going to give you his bear Bilius for your birthday... So I started your _first_ Weasley jumper. I slowly knitted it, no spells just weaving in my motherly love.” With a jolt Hermione realised that she was quickly waking up. Mrs Weasley kept on speaking.

“Remember this jumper Hermione,” Mrs Weasley said lovingly. “The wool I sent you this year is left over from me knitting it. Remember, this daydream because one day it _will_ come true. Ron and you will come out the other end of this tiff and be stronger for it. We love you Hermione!”

* * *

 

Hermione sat up and rubbed her eyes. It was two am. She felt small, sick and frustrated. Breathing was hard; her heart stopped and brain emptied there was just this information. She gasped as tears burned her eyes. They would have been brilliant together – it would have been brilliant – if only it was real! If only he’s asked her to be his girlfriend in the library, or come to collect her on the way to the tower... oh, she should have confronted him about his behaviour or shouted at Lavender during the party. But they’d never used the terms boyfriend and girlfriend and now she just felt used and worthless.

A sinking feeling started in her soul. Still dazed from the daydream she staggered towards the balls of wool. They were the colour of Ron’s eyes. Her fingers dared to touch them and the texture was as intoxicatingly soft as it had been in her daydream. Was that last message from the _real_ Molly Weasley? Is that really how she felt?

Without thought, her hands sought the drawer filled with Ron’s letter. In there was a small, unusually neatly wrapped package from Ron. Her shaking hands undid the ribbon and paper. Breathing slowly, she lifted the lid on the small jewellery box. Her eyes widened. There was a small watch with symbols around the edge and moving stars instead of hands, on a simple gold necklace.

The watch went back into the box before being shut away.

Emotions overcame her. Hermione looked over towards her trunk. She couldn’t resist slowly easing it open and purposefully grabbing the battered object. Hidden safety between some jumpers – tonight she felt a compulsion to snuggle the bear from her former best-friend.

Billius was well loved. There were patches where spider’s legs had once hand sprung from. It was frayed at the edges where pets had nibbled it. The stuffing had thinned away from the middle where he’d been hugged. The eyes had been replaced. Hermione’s favourite part of this bear was that every fibre of it had been impregnated with the scent of Ron. This was unsurprising because he had been Ron’s bear since birth.

She sat curled up on the bed. Tears welled but they wouldn’t come. That daydream had been so detailed. How had the twins known about the wool, the watch and half the other details? Desperate for answers she searched the inside of the daydream box. To her surprise, she saw a letter enclosed:

_Hermione: Christmas is the time for merriment. We hope this helped. The details of the daydream were like putting a self eating jigsaw together. Some were easy like: we really do have a gnome on top of the Christmas tree. Others we needed to bribe Ginny’s for. We even tricked some information from Harry. That boy will do anything if you stuff him with enough butterbeer and chocolate frogs. Mum noticed, of course, and because she’s more than silently frustrated about the whole situation; made us put the last part in. Chin up and cheerio. Gred and Forge x_

Mrs Weasley ready did feel that! Somehow, that made what her son had done, more painful. She turned the lights off and slipped under her duvet: mulling the situation over and over.

_Ron had made a mistake. They were in this mess because they were really passionate people, who had hidden what was really going on between them. These emotions had been hidden from everyone including each other. This led to misunderstandings and this situation with the bimbo._

Hermione breathed in deeply; trying to clear her mind. Seeing that daydream, with its wonderful details had restarted the dull ache inside of her. It made her feel terribly happy and sad all at once. Happy the thoughts and feelings she’d been harbouring hadn’t been in her imagination. Others had seen it too... his mother, no less!

Sadness quickly overcame the happiness. At the moment, it was only a dream; she and Ron weren’t even friends. She mourned that fact. Lying awake in the dark with the window open made her feel restless. She tossed and turned before giving up her bed at three am, for a cup of milk and honey.

* * *

 

When Hermione arrived downstairs she was surprised that her mother was waiting. For a moment, Hermione dithered in the doorway; she hadn’t told her mum the new friendship situation with Ron. Obviously, she knew already from Molly. Internally, she battled the urge to flee.

“Hello darling!” Rose Granger said quietly, brushing back her long curly hair from her face.

“Mum what are you doing up so late?” Hermione asked moving closer.

“I could ask you the same question?” she said perceptively as she turned to the stove. Grabbing the milk pan that had been slowly simmering poured the contents slowly into awaiting mugs. “Now don’t tell your father...” she added with a wicked glint as a box of Weasley fudge found its way between them.

“Well, what do we have here?” Hermione asked astonished, her mother, the dentist eating sweets at night.

“Molly sent it over...” the older woman admitted. “She really is an angel when it comes to sweets. And, as she always reminds me, a little of what you fancy isn’t bad as long as you brush afterwards...!”

“Always says? Since when do you talk to _Ginny’s_ mother?” Hermione enquired, holding her empty mug closer. Both of them knew that Ginny’s name was a substitute. 

“We’ve spoken since we met them at Diagon Alley before your second year...At the Leaky Cauldron, we exchanged particulars and then when you had your accident... well, she kept us updated. I think young _Ronald_ asked her to.”

“Ron did that?” Hermione looked dazed. Momentary her mind’s eye saw the thirteen year old boy with the auburn hair, direct Professor Lockhart into the care of Madam Pomfrey as she was waking up in the hospital wing. He was filthy and he smelt like damp but his face alighted with relief when he’d seen her. There had also been an awkward moment where they’d nearly hugged.

“Oh yes,” Rose Granger smiled as she casually sipped her milk. “He was very worried about you!” she empathised then she cleared her throat. “Speaking of that tall, handsome, redheaded friend of yours...”

“No mum...” Hermione said snapped. This was a surprising reaction and a silence engulfed them. Rose reached over for some fudge. From where she sat Hermione could see the milk on the stove was ready. Without thinking, Hermione skilfully flicked her wand for the ingredients to seemingly prepare themselves. When it was ready, Hermione slipped her delicately drink.

Rose Grangers eyes became wider. This was the first time since Hogwarts Hermione had used her magic. The young witch was too preoccupied to notice this reaction: the daydream charm was still fresh in her mind. Her mind stopping at an image of Lavender snogging Ron; then it burst forth without warning.

“I don’t want to talk about him or his _blond girlfriend..._ Lavender Brown mother... of all the girls in the whole school... he has to go for the one least like me!” Hermione ranted. Her mother was about to agree that it _was_ understandable; that he would pick someone who was unlike her: when Hermione continued by herself. “This is literally the Boggart from my third year exam! It’s all Won-Won this and Won-Won that... and snogging like the giant squid on the sofa... they’re very nonverbal,” she spat bitterly. “And why mother? They have nothing in common other than the house they’re in?”

“It’s completely _ridiculous_!” Hermione said looking at her mug. There was a pause in which Rose thought she’d be able to interject something when her daughter fumed on. “The worst thing is the reason behind it... he told me just before the end of term. He was angry that I’d snogged Victor! Did he ask me? No. I hadn’t you know... So we didn’t go to the Slug Club Christmas party just because of that stupid misunderstanding. That’s why that... _bint_ is parading around as his girlfriend! They’ve never even had a conversation.”

“Hermione...” her mother ventured in a delicate fashion. “To be honest: the magical world bemuses me. I’m just a dentist, so I can’t advice you on being a charming a chair or transfiguring tea. This, however, I do understand. Relationships are always hard. The key is not giving up...”

“I didn’t give up... HE did!” Hermione choked. “He hurt me: mother! I mean _REALLY_ hurt me!” her eyes began to sting with unwept tears.

“And you didn’t hurt him...?” Rose said evenly. There was silence and Hermione looked at her mother as if she was a stranger. “The attacking budgies...” Hermione’s was surprised. How did her mother know about them? “Molly Weasley told me. Not that _she_ or _I_ blame you... But we were surprise that you did it.”  The strong witch crumbled. Her mother moved around and engulfed her in an embrace and kissed her crown. She smoothed her hair and waited for her once tomboy daughter to talk about the boy she loved.

“I was so angry,” Hermione sobbed. “Can you imagine walking into the Common Room and seeing your _almost_ boyfriend snogging another girl. I just bolted; I needed to clear my head. Harry found me and was comforting me... which he’s rubbish at because Ron usually does that kind of thing... well... Ron came in... and... he didn’t even look at me mum. It was like I was nothing. I was seething... I was going to be so graceful and composed. There wasn’t shouting; he didn’t apologise... There wasn’t anything – he looked relieved as I went by.” Hermione said upset; she moved her head to look at her mother then confessed. “I snapped.” She said averting her gaze and popping fudge in her mouth.

“Personally, I feel sorry for Lavender,” Rose admitted lightly. Hermione eyes snapped to her mother. A traitorous statement like that was bound to come with some insight. “Ron was obviously rebounding with Lavender Brown after your misunderstanding. He’s always been a man of action, hasn’t he?” Rose asked knowing the answer, Hermione gave a curt nod. “Therefore, angry jealous Ron made a mistake and snogged the first girl he could that was unlike you.

“Anyway, Molly and I have been watching your relationship with Ron for years and you have an obviously unspoken _long term romantic relationship_ ,” Hermione blushed, Rose continued. “Ron’s therefore, obviously using Lavender as a rebound. However, a rebound being a relationship someone starts after a _long term significant romantic relationship_ finishes... just to fill the void.” Rose pointed out. “Are ultimately doomed to fail because when the wounded party heals they realised that they’ve made a bad choice in new partner,” she pointed out. “So – trust me, it won’t last,” Rose said knowingly. “ _Friendship_ and _communication_ are the foundations of any _long term significant romantic relationship!_ ” The she cupped her daughter’s cheek. “In the long run, Lavender Brown doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I hope your right,” Hermione admitted closing her eyes. “Mum, I miss him. I miss him so badly it aches,” she confessed gulping down fresh tears.

“I know – no one your age listen’s to Sad FM without a broken heart,” she said reasonably. “Well, you have two options don’t you?” Rose said with a sad smile. It was good to be here for her daughter; even though it was because a broken heart. “You can either forgive him now; because you know you want to.” Hermione looked at her defiantly. She may miss him but he was going to have to do something pretty big to get her to forgive him. “ _OR_ you can just ignore him; concentrate on any new mysteries you have going on with Harry; visit Hagrid; spend time with Ginny; concentrate on your schoolwork. Carry on with your life and let him see that. The novelty of Lavender will soon wear thin. Then, let him be sorry. Feel sorry and follow that through with his actions,” she said with a reassuring tone. “But forgive him...”

Hermione let her word’s sink in. After a little while, her mother kissed her goodnight and headed up to bed. By the time she went to bed, Hermione had decided that her mother was right. She had the right to be happy. There were loads of things she would prefer to do other than continue to throw herself pity parties.

In the morning, she would send Pig home with a note telling him to leave her alone. She’d tidy the Ron drawer so it closed and Billius would go back into her truck. For now, she snuggled the bear, breathed in his scent and relaxed for the night. Hermione was comforted by her mother’s words: the novelty the blond would soon wear off... Ron and Lavender was a rebound relationship that was doomed to fail and if she was lucky, next year the daydream might become a reality. 

**Author's Note:**

> This story is the unofficial sequel to the Christmas Interrupted series. So if you want to read about Ron and Hermione snogging a lot... throughout canon... I got you covered. The next story from Ron and Hermione’s viewpoint is Man-wiches and is about them talking after his poisoning. It’s not posted yet so watch this space.   
> The next posted story is Seamus Day Out and then, Man-wiches then Rebounding Relationships: THE BREAK-UP AND AFTERMATH. 
> 
> I’ve also been criticised for a slight Fred and Hermione shipping. The moment with Fred on the dance floor refers to Yule Brawl. Also relates to my story called Bed. All becomes clear in: George Explains It All. I don’t think Fred and Hermione were having an affair behind Ron’s back. Just, when no one was looking, they shared a meaningful friendship. What other stuff happened helped Hermione to realise that she wanted Ron.   
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> JustSuperMione   
> She-who-must-be-reviewed!


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